Skip to main content

Love In Spanish

I have met many wonderful people through my blog. Today I made another new friend. She is a poet in a language that sounds like music to my ears but I don't understand. I dearly wish I did. Thanks Patricia, for giving me two beautiful poems to read and post.

Two Spanish Poems by Patricia Boneo (Translated by: John Shepherd)

LOVE

I feel your virile chest,
Take me to the stars,
And let the rootless tree
Now penetrate me,
Your arms embracing me.
And you change the bird
Posing in my womb to a man
Flying over me.
Your sweet mouth like honey
Sunk into mine
As if we were two
And one at the same time.

I love you at nights
When you give me the breath of life,
I love you in the mornings
When I am prisoner in your arms
Bringing me down to earth by gravity.

And how much more I love you!, Thus
Loving you in the firmament
That is now mine
You bring me the sun, the moon
And the lost planet
That sustains me on this earth.

Your love keeps me captive
In the skin
that covers me
With your skin.

Darling, your love gives me the honey
That lets the butterfly in flight
To rest for the last day

Love each day will be eternity
For that I'll love you,
It will be a beautiful flower
It will be the sweetest wine
Whatever it may be !
For that I'll love you.



Amor


Siento tu pecho viril
tomarme hacia una estrella.
Y sin aliento el árbol
con sus raíces
penetra en mis entrañas.

Allí estas con tus brazos
rodeando mi cuerpo.
Y te conviertes en pájaro
posándote en mi vientre
en un hombre que me
sobrevuela.
Tu boca dulce como la miel
en la mía,
mi ser hundiéndose en
tu costado
como si fuéramos uno
y dos a la vez.

Te amo cuando anochece y
me sostienes.
Te amo cuando amanece y
me aprisionas
en tu cuerpo como sí
tu fueses la gravedad que me aferra a la tierra.

¡Y cuanto más te amo! Así ....
al amarnos en tu firmamento
que es el mío...
Y me regalas el sol, la luna, y
aquel planeta perdido para que
me sostenga en esta tierra.

Tu amor me cautiva,
la piel que me cubre
con la tuya.

Amor, si Amor me das el néctar
que lleva la mariposa en su vuelo
para posarse en su último día....

Amor cada día será la eternidad
de lo que te amo,
Será la flor más bella
Será el vino más dulce...
¡Será que se que te amo!


I have stopped loving you

I want to stop loving you,
And thus forget
what once we were.

You kissed me in timid flying kisses,
You held me to your chest sighing
As if you wanted me no more.

You get up in the morning
And leave me alone,
I am defenseless
I can fly no more.

Now I do not love you
I am in another’s arms,
Loving and being loved.

I have stopped loving you
I don't care where you go.

Your looks, your walk
Your lack of manliness,
Matters to me no more.


He dejado de quererte

Quiero dejarte de quererte
y así olvidarme de lo que
fuimos.

Me besaste allí por antaño
beso furtivo como vos,
Huidizo.


Me tomaste en tu pecho
y en un suspiro no me
quisiste.

Te levantas cada mañana y
me dejas.

Y yo indefensa sin poder huir.

Ahora me despido amor de antaño
ya estoy en otros brazos y;
Amada y amando.

He dejado de quererte
Ya no me importa donde van
Tus pasos

Tu mirar, tu andar, tu falta de
Hombría.
Ya no importan.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques...